


Tastes Like Blue

by J (j_writes)



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Summer of Like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't take this the wrong way, man, but I doubt your ability to reach his face with your foot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Like Blue

**Author's Note:**

> written because Aneli8 wanted the first time Patrick and Gerard kissed during the Summer of Like.

Patrick was stretched out on his stomach on the floor of the lounge the first time Gerard showed up on his bus. Joe was the one who answered the door, with a big welcoming "HI!" and then ushered Gerard onto the bus like he was a fucking bellboy or something, then stood there looking faintly confused.

Patrick barely looked up from his computer as Joe went back to sprawling out on the couch, watching some movie that Patrick had been tuning out. He pushed his headphones off and asked, "looking for Mikey?"

"Yeah," Gerard said. "We've got an interview, Brian told me to come find him."

"Sorry," Patrick said, poking at his computer and frowning. "They left about a half an hour ago."

"Any idea - " Gerard began, and Patrick shook his head.

"Sorry," he said again.

Gerard shrugged. "'s okay." He peered over Patrick's shoulder, and that was what got Patrick to finally look at him. He had a smudge of ink on his face, and his hair was sticking out in about sixteen directions. "New song?" he asked. Patrick shook his head.

"Not one of ours," he said, "just something I'm working on for someone else." He clicked the computer shut and sat up, glancing at Joe on the couch, then at the tv. "Want some help trying to find them?" he asked.

Gerard looked surprised. "I...guess? If you want? You don't have to, though, it's fucking like eight hundred degrees out there."

Patrick looked him over. "Then why are you wearing a jacket?"

Gerard wiggled his shoulders and looked down at himself, as if surprised to find that he was. "I like it," he finally said. "Why are you wearing a hat?"

"Point," Patrick said, making a face. He pushed himself up and waved at Joe, who raised a half-hearted hand in reply. "I swear," Patrick said as they climbed off the bus and he shut the door behind him, "if I have to listen to another one of his fucking movies, I'm going to kick him in the FACE."

Gerard laughed, and looked Patrick up and down. "Don't take this the wrong way, man, but I doubt your ability to reach his face with your foot."

"I'd stand on a box if I had to," Patrick said seriously, tugging at his hat.

"So," said Gerard, "you know Pete Wentz better than anyone in the world. Where would he go if he was hiding?"

Patrick looked at him, surprised. "You think they're hiding?"

"Mikey really didn't want to do this interview."

"Why not?" Patrick asked. When Gerard just kind of looked at him, he added, "I mean, okay, no one wants to do interviews, but why this one in particular?"

Gerard shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he and the guy hooked up last summer, but you couldn't pay me enough to want to think about it, so the official answer is that I have no idea."

Patrick laughed. "Ah, I know that problem well," he said. "What is it about reporters?"

"They're easy?" Gerard suggested.

"And so are Pete and Mikey," Patrick filled in, then looked a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean Mikey's - " he started, but Gerard just waved a hand at him.

"Nah, he is," he said, looking completely unoffended. "And, you know. Then there's Pete."

Patrick sighed. "Yeah," he agreed. "There's Pete."

"I don't know how you do it, man," Gerard said, sounding a little impressed, and clapped Patrick on the back. "You're a better guy than I'd be." Patrick opened his mouth to defend - Pete, himself, he wasn't sure who - but then Gerard veered off down a corridor between the buses, saying, "popsicles!"

Patrick wasn't entirely sure if it was some sort of nonsensical exclamation or not, until he followed and discovered that no, there was a tech sitting on the stairs of one of the buses with a giant box of Freeze Pops. "Why...?" he started to say, but Gerard just thrust a green one into his hands, called "Thanks!" at the tech, and steered him away.

"Don't question these things," he said wisely as they turned down another bend. "You like green, right?"

"They all taste the same, don't they?" Patrick asked, and Gerard looked scandalized. "Never mind, I like green. Thanks," he said, and bit the plastic off the top, spitting it onto the tarmac.

"Don't you wish Warped came with an ice cream man?" Gerard asked dreamily, sucking at his popsicle.

Patrick grinned. "He'd make a fortune," he said.

"That's what I'll do next year," Gerard said, "if we don't get asked out. I'll just buy a fucking ice cream van, and drive around with the tour anyway. Paint murals on the side of it. Give out popsicles to everybody. It'll be epic."

Patrick laughed at the image, then asked, "Is it true that ice cream trucks in Jersey play the Godfather theme?"

Gerard grinned, and said, "You've been talking to Frank," and didn't give a straight answer.

They walked. Their popsicles melted in their fingers, and when they talked and laughed at each other, their lips and tongues were tinged blue and green. Gerard spilled the last of his over his hands, then licked them clean, wondering aloud if he was going to stick to everything he touched for the rest of the day.

"You could wash your hands," Patrick suggested, and Gerard grinned.

"You sound like Frank again," he said.

They walked the circuit of the buses, asking occasionally if anyone had seen Pete and Mikey, but no one had. By the time they got back to Patrick's bus, the sun had readjusted itself over them, and they were both sweating, desperate to get back into the air conditioning.

"Remind me the next time I start complaining about Joe that he's where it's cool," Patrick said fervently, and Gerard nodded.

"Will do," he said, then reached out to brush his thumb over the corner of Patrick's mouth. "You've got....green," he explained.

"Well," said Patrick, "you've got," and he went for the ink on Gerard's cheek, but ended up leaning in instead, pressing his mouth to Gerard's, slow and a little hesitant, sticky and sweet and warm, and then Gerard was wrapping his hand into the damp back of Patrick's shirt, pulling him closer. When he pulled back, they were both laughing a little breathlessly, and then there was a thump above them, and when Patrick craned his neck up, there was Pete, sprawled on his stomach on top of the bus, grinning at them.

"Is it over?" Mikey asked pitifully from beside him, and Gerard started laughing uproariously as Patrick tucked his red face against Gerard's shirt and debated whether he wanted the ground to just open up and swallow him right then and there.

He decided the answer was only yes if Gerard got swallowed too.


End file.
